Razing Crimson
by Illyria13
Summary: PRNS: What if the events of "Return of Thunder, Part III" had gone slightly different? How does Hunter deal with the aftermath of trying to destroy his brother? Slightly AU, angst & drama


Razing Crimson

By Illyria13

Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers or the characters. If I did, you'd know my real name. Enough said.

Author Note:

I thought the "Return of Thunder" arc had such potential for dark, angst-filled moments between the two Thunders. There is so much room for angst in the series and we don't get to see enough of it. Too many of the Rangers are turned "evil" back and forth, and we never really get to see the fall out.

Hence, this little fic. It sticks mostly to the actual storyline that happened, just has more angst, more brooding and lots of dark thoughts.

Setting: "Return of Thunder, Part III" , right after Hunter gets hit by the second beam and the steam that turns him against the other Rangers, and follows on from this point. Slightly AU at times, and ending definitely is.

Summary: What if the events of Return of Thunder, P3 had gone slightly different? How does Hunter deal with the aftermath? Slightly AU, angst & drama

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_Pain._

It stung him and crippled, nearly bringing him to his knees. Beyond anything he'd ever felt, it encompassed his body and his soul, shredding what he saw and knew and thought and felt.

_Fire._

It raged through him in a burning blaze, melting his bones and searing his blood. It had no voice in which to scream its anger, no body to vent its rage. Instead, it sunk its hooks into the shell of the ranger it held, forcing him to act as its conduit.

_Betrayal. _

This pain was more than before, as the heartache that came with it screamed out its agony. While fire had no voice, betrayal did, and it howled its vengeance in a voice of broken glass.

In the moment the Crimson ranger had sacrificed himself for his brother, by taking the full force of the blast meant for them both, destiny itself changed, shifting uneasily at the turn of events. Because Fortune knew. Knew the danger of change and of new beginnings.

With sacrifice, there could be only loss.

The Crimson ranger was unaware of this, however; all that existed was the twisting of his thoughts and the changing of emotion. Hate warred above all, and the betrayal of his younger brother stung fiercely.

And as the rangers faded away in a cloud of hazy smoke, the small part of him that still cared could almost swear he saw his brother reach for him.

Even that didn't have the strength to cut through the red haze encompassing his mind.

The words of the Red ranger shouted through him, a taunting echo of a challenge between the two shades of red.

_This has gone far enough!_

And in the silent stillness left in the wake of the departed Rangers, Crimson snarled back.

_No, Red Ranger. Not nearly far enough. _

_And what happens now is none of your concern. _

_This fight is between us Thunders._

Looking up into the slowly darkening sky, the Ranger of Lightning howled a raging vow into the circling wind.

_I will end you, dear brother. For betraying me and betraying you._

_We could have been great. We could have ruled._

A slow smirk twisted his lips, and the darkened orbs slid shut as the final words whispered through his mind.

_Now, you'll simply have to die. _

And the clouds above him shuddered.

///

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Fate had not intended this. But it was happening and nothing could stop it.

Two solitary figures gazed through the expanse, searching and feeling for the other. Brothers in everything but blood, Crimson and Navy felt the fates shift as new timelines wrote and rewrote themselves.

Crimson lightning flashed across the sky as the eldest stood at the edge of the rocky ocean, seething in hatred.

Navy thunder rumbled through the clouds, and looking over the edge of a cliff, the youngest cried silently in icy despair.

As only brothers could, they felt a change in the world, knew that things would come to an end in a bloody schism.

And the gaping chasm ripped between them would forever tarnish their souls.

//

Blood against Blood, brother against brother, the two clashed in a battle of epic proportions. Though they fought on equal footing, they fought with different goals.

One fought with the fury of an aching betrayal. One fought with the desperation of an endangered loved one.

And the Wind Rangers could only watch in awe, knowing that this battle raged for the sake of both brothers' souls. If one should fall here, then the other would follow, and their loss would reverberate through all fate and time.

Without pause or hesitation, the two brothers threw themselves into the battle, trading blow for blow, and kick for kick. As one fell back, the other pushed forward. As one gained the upper hand, the other quickly countered. They knew each others moves like they knew their own, making the battle evenly matched.

The Crimson Lightning Ranger careened into a blur of motion, venting his rage and anger at the one who had the audacity to betray him. Lost in the tidal wave of pain, he tore into his brother, ignoring all but the frenzy of battle.

But in his agony, the elder forgot the cost of battling the second half of his self.

And the Navy Thunder Ranger knew that this was his only chance to save his brother, to bring back the older Thunder, his protector, his guardian. If he failed here, he'd be destroyed, and so would the elder. Because Blake knew that in killing him, Hunter would be killing himself.

Because Hunter would never be able to forgive. And Hunter would never be able to forget.

Lightning and Thunder clashed above and below, illuminating the two figures on the battlefield, and the watching spectators felt their breath catch at what they saw.

One brother was driven to his knees on the rocky sand, and the other raised his staff in preparation of dealing a deadly blow. As the wind screamed its agony and electricity crackled in the sky, the brother that was still standing struck.

And as Fate and Fortune collided into one, everything both brothers had ever known shifted, and faded into obscurity.

//

Water falls silently and loudly. Both deafening and serene, it flows in steady intervals, vertically and horizontally. It cuts through air, skims across earth and melts away into nothingness.

The silently watching figure stood hidden in the trees, gazing at the massive phenomenon in front of him.

Watching. Waiting.

Breathing.

Waiting. Watching.

Breathing.

He concentrated on the rhythm, on the simple cycle of merely being. If he didn't, he'd start thinking, and he couldn't do that. Couldn't afford to.

Thinking led to feeling, feeling led to pain, pain led to darkness and…

Now he sounded like Yoda. Or Sensei.

He couldn't decide which was worse.

Facing them would be easier. But that would lead to questions, and questions would lead to talking. He didn't do talking; it wasn't his strong suit. Tall, dark and broody, that was him.

He still couldn't move. To face them would be to see himself, to see what he had done. He could stay far from the room that housed his… his… the _other_ Thunder ranger. It wouldn't make a difference, though. He'd see it in their faces, their eyes.

The condemnation. The fear. The hate and mistrust.

It was to be expected. He held no doubt about that. It was the reaction of the one that mattered most that was different. He knew he wouldn't see those emotions. No, he'd see something far worse. Something undeserved.

Forgiveness.

Because he knew that if he faced him, he'd see it, and he couldn't understand it. It was beyond him, at this point, at any point. After what he'd done, how could there be anything other than hate?

_Brother._

The word whispered through the breeze and the Crimson ranger flinched as if he'd been slapped. Disgust rose within him, and with it, the self-hatred he'd been nursing. He'd buried it before, to finish the fight, but now…he couldn't anymore. He didn't have the strength or the will.

He'd used everything he'd had left to join with the others and destroy the monster. To fight the good fight and all that rot.

But he couldn't help wishing that when they were done, the others would have turned on him. Destroyed _him_, stabbed the _monster _within, and obliterated him from existence.

Thoughts like that would get him killed on the battlefield, and he found with no surprise that he didn't have enough left in him to care.

Maybe he didn't need to be destroyed.

It seemed like he was already there.

He laughed, and the very air echoed back the menacing sound.

It was heartbreak and despair and chilling emptiness.

It was the sound of someone who'd reached all he had and found that it wasn't enough. Not for his sake, but for the sake of someone he loved.

It was frozen anger and hollow vengeance and the keening wail of desperation. It was the sound of someone who'd stood on the ledge and looked down, put one foot out and almost pushed off, and fallen back a few steps at the last second.

Someone who'd committed to ending and simply needed the final strength to go over the edge.

It was a precarious ledge he was balancing, but one he was not willing to leave. Now the only thing Hunter had left to do was gather his ebbing strength and take that last step, before someone came along and decided to pull him off the mental precipice.

"Hunter."

The Crimson ranger didn't move or even acknowledge that he'd heard the other.

"**Hunter**."

The word was uttered with even more strength, as the person who'd said it became increasingly irritated. The statuesque Ranger still didn't move, knowing that the speaker would eventually give up. Like everyone else had. Like everyone else would.

Hunter couldn't stop a slight smirk from crossing his lips as he heard the other ranger sigh in defeat, turn and walk away, his footsteps resounding heavy with frustration.

Moments passed, and the oldest Thunder ranger continued his silent vigil over the surrounding forest. The soft approach of footsteps caused him to sigh internally, even as his outward countenance remained blank. He wondered if he would have to turn them all away, one by one, until they finally figured out that he wanted nothing to do with them.

"Blake is asking for you."

The voice behind him carried no condemnation, just a flat silence to the words, but it was enough to make Hunter want to flinch, though he quelled the action. Of all the other Rangers, Cam was the only one that he couldn't read or understand. His thoughts were a carefully hidden secret, and Hunter didn't know what to make of him. The uncertainty of his intentions only made him wary of the slightly older teen. For him, anyone that he couldn't read was simply dangerous.

"I doubt that."

Behind Hunter, Cam tilted his head slightly in surprise and interest, wondering if this was his chance to understand the Thunder ranger better.

"Why? Do you think he doesn't want to see you?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'd like to. But I know him. He's not even conscious, is he?"

The self-loathing in Hunter's voice made Cam shift uncomfortably, compassion flitting quickly into his voice in the face of the other Ranger's pain. He couldn't lie to the other ranger, as Cam knew it would only push him further away.

"I think he'd want you there, whether or not he was awake. You're his brother, Hunter. Nothing will change that. And everything that happened was not your fault. He understands that." Cam took a deep breath and forged on.

"If he didn't care, he would not have gone to such great lengths to save you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

At the silence of the other teen, he stopped to study him. The Crimson ranger was clearly on edge, every muscle tight and strong. Even though he didn't know him well, Cam could see, even without looking at his face, the guilt and damage this battle had done to Hunter. He continued speaking, even against the feeling of unease in his stomach, praying that what he said next wouldn't push Hunter over the edge.

"Don't you think you owe him, Hunter?"

With a mocking laugh, the other teen turned around, and the bitter look on his face made Cam step back.

"I think I owe him a hell of a lot more than a bedside visit, don't you? About a pint or two of blood, at the very least." Shaking his head, he continued. "No, Cam. I won't do that to him. Now drop the subject."

The Crimson ranger turned back to his previous position, the moment of contact between the two lost by the circumstances that had led them here.

"Pass the message on to the rest of them. I don't need them coming out here and trying to impart there infinite wisdom. What's done is done, and how I choose to deal with it is my decision and mine alone. My choice, my rules."

"We're only trying to help you, Hunter. You, and your brother. You're Rangers, and that makes you one of us," Cam spoke softly, hoping to get through to the dark Red Ranger.

The tightening of his shoulders clearly spoke of Hunter's distaste of the subject, and with a deep sigh, Cam knew that any chance of helping the Crimson ranger had long passed.

Returning to the building, and the room that housed the injured Thunder ranger, Cam felt a sense of foreboding as he thought back to the conversation with Hunter. Looking down on the younger of the two siblings, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change, and maybe not for the better.

Time passed as Hunter remained, watching the shadows chasing each other on the forest floor, feeling the air becoming colder and colder. Night fell, and still he lingered; a statue made of lightning and fire, a voiceless shroud of darkness and shade.

It was hours into night when he finally moved. Reaching out with his senses, the ninja searched the occupants of the Rangers headquarters for awareness. Seeing them all asleep, he stealthily crept into the lair, heading for the room in which the only injured Ranger lay.

Pausing outside the door, Hunter knew that this was his only chance. Knew that he had to follow through with the decision he had made, during those many hours in which he stood guardian in the forest. He needed to see his brother one final time, and face the damage he had wrought on him.

A sheet of cold passed over him as he finally laid eyes on the Navy ranger ensconced in the bed. It was not a pretty sight, though the injuries were not life-threatening.

Blake was a mess. Various cuts and bruises covered his face and his left shoulder was encased in bandages and a sling, indicative of a dislocated shoulder. He'd been left shirtless, and the mottled bruises on his chest were clearly visible. Hunter winced at the angry red around his ribs, remembering the vicious pounding he had given his younger brother.

It was no wonder that Blake had passed out the moment they'd returned to Ninja Ops.

Everything he'd been prepared to say had left him as soon as he'd seen what he had done. All that he could remember was what he had decided to do. Unable to cope, unable to even breathe, the Crimson ranger turned from Navy and walked away, never turning or looking back.

Even when the figure in the bed whispered his name, calling out to his big brother, Hunter didn't alter his pace.

He strode forward, his mind racing and his thoughts tumbling, leaving the shattered form of Blake to watch his brother walk away, the younger wondering if Hunter had heard him calling his name.

Maybe he did hear it. Maybe he didn't.

It really didn't matter.

That wasn't his name anymore. He couldn't be that person.

There was no forgiving his crimes. Nothing he did could ever erase the act of drawing his brother's blood.

They were twin blades, cut from the same steel and forged in the same flames. Meant to back each other and guard against all danger.

Two sides of the same coin, split in two by the inherent features of such a dichotomy.

Hunter and Blake. Crimson and Navy. Lightning and Thunder. Brother and Brother.

But if a separation was the only solution, then he would sever their link.

All that mattered was keeping him safe, keeping the baby brother he had sworn to protect unharmed and unmarred.

Even from his protector.

Hunter didn't care about the world. Didn't care about Lothor and his goons or the Rangers and their Sensei. He didn't think about his dead parents, or how disappointed they would be in him for walking away.

Whatever he had to do to save his brother, he'd do it.

And a part of him had known; known deep down, that this day would come. The day where he'd need to protect Blake from the one soul who was capable of destroying him.

A wracking cough shook his frame, breaking him from his thoughts. Stumbling forward, Hunter threw a hand out for balance as the world blurred around him. Feeling the darkness creep along the edges of his vision, he focused on catching his breath through the suffocating fluid in his lungs. Bracing himself against the nearby tree, he slowly forced himself to inhale against the burning pain.

A soft splatter against the forests' floor caused him to open eyes that had closed unawares. A small puddle of red liquid was slowly pooling in front of him, as more of the copper substance dripped from his lips. Swallowing thickly, Hunter watched in silent fascination as the blood continued to collect, making no move to stem the flow. With a trembling hand, he reached up and gently touched his lips, pulling away to see the tips of his fingers coated in blood.

A small smile crossed his lips, stretching the red slashed mouth into a mockery of laughter. It was a deadened mask, created out of circumstance and murdered by martyrdom.

_It was fitting_, he mused, _that_ _the color of his power would be the color of blood._

And he wondered what this fact said about his ability to do good with them.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe Fate was telling him something, on that day he received his morpher, about his character and what kind of person he was.

They say that the Powers choose the Ranger, according to their abilities and qualities.

He supposed it was appropriate then, that the deadlier of the two Thunder Rangers had been given the power of Lightning and the color of Crimson.

The next cough left a splatter of red across his face and Hunter knew that he was in bad shape. His brother hadn't been the only one injured in their fight, and leaving them unattended like he had done for the past hours had only increased their severity.

He didn't care what happened now. As far as he was concerned, he could die or leave, and either option was appealing.

Consider it a down payment on his sins.

Forcing himself to his feet, the Crimson Ranger, wielder of Lightning and oldest brother to the Navy ranger, began a stumbling path into the forest around him, welcoming the darkness that closed around him.

For this was what he had become: a nameless shadow, unseen and unheard, without ties or a place to go.

He could never go back to them, or to who he had once been. He could only move into the shadows, and accept wherever they led him.

If it was death, than it was nothing more than he deserved.

If it was life, well, he would snuff that out quickly enough.

As the haunted figure faded slowly into the trees, the watching Fates could only look on in horror at what had become of the Crimson ranger.

The aftermath of this battle had left behind a fractured soul, and Fortune shuddered as the repercussions swiftly began to weave its changes into the timeline.

Nothing could prepare the world for what it was going to become.

Nothing could prepare the Rangers for what was coming, with one Ranger gone and another about to follow.

And as Time shattered, and Fate wept, the remnants of the Crimson Thunder ranger faded into shadow, melding into a bitter torrent of absence and shade.

//End.


End file.
